


Surges are dangerous things, for men to have

by SyrupKhan



Category: Stormlight Archive - Brandon Sanderson
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Gen, I'm warning you this is going to be violent and depressing, Szeth and Nightblood might show up, but that's when we get closer to Rhythm of War, did I break canon and make a human willshaper? yes. Are you going to judge me? probably, it takes place in the year between Oathbringer and Rhythm of War
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-11
Updated: 2021-02-11
Packaged: 2021-03-18 01:33:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29360325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SyrupKhan/pseuds/SyrupKhan
Summary: Speak again the ancient oaths.Bridge four, Shallan, Jasnah, Dalinar. The Kholins and their people are not the only Radiants, and a group of surgebinders find themselves trapped in the enemy controlled Irie, trying to navigate their powers without any support or training. Aelith, a lightweaver, whose secrets aren’t mind breaking, but in who follows him. Matthan, a windrunner, spren half mad and fleeing the collapse of Herdaz. Samaria, an edgedancer, one of the only people to escape the fall of Kholinar, but not intact. Narret, the only known human willshaper, and even then, his spren is a criminal, though what crime he committed he will not say. And Tanalan, a stoneward who fights Odium’s influence, but not in the way he thinks.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 3





	Surges are dangerous things, for men to have

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to my Sanderson mess. Now these aren't OCs, not really, as I had my friends take the official quiz and tell me their results, then molded radiants around them. Three guesses as to which radiant is me, and the first two don't count. I'm going to try and write this in the Sanderson cadence, but no promises, so tone might be a bit off. Either way, enjoy!

Aelith wondered when he was going to die.

He sat by the fire, clutching a bowl of soup, feeling the warmth seep into his gloved hands as Equation buzzed nearby. The cryptic hummed, pattern spinning as he sat on the log next to Aelith. He didn’t understand how, but somehow the lightweaver knew that his spren was watching the stars. He, meanwhile, stared into the fire, a single exhaustion spren spinning around him.

On his other side, Narret, a Veden, sat, spooning the thin broth into his mouth like he was going to fall into Damnation if he stopped. Aelith silently wondered where his lightspren, Yenna, was. She didn’t speak, but seeing her would’ve been a sight more enjoyable than watching Narret wolf down the soup. Aelith began to eat his own soup. He grimaced. It wasn’t good, he hadn’t trained much with soulcasting, but it would feed them. Then, as he went to take another bite, a figure crashed into the snow beside him.

Aelith jumped, hand shooting to the side out of instinct, but it was just Matthan.

“Righto. No one is following us, so I think we’re in the clear.”

The Herdazian grinned.

“Storms Aelith, you look like you’ve seen a host of voidbringas!”

From the log, Equation buzzed in protest.

“They are not Voidbringers, we have been over this. They are Fused”

Aelith glared at Matthan, while the windrunner chuckled at Equation’s comment.

“I told you to stop crashing into the ground near camp, I could’ve killed you!”

The Herdazian strode over to the fire and sat in Aelith’s spot.

“Ah, but you didn’t! See, I’m too valuable to you!”

The lightweaver ran a hand through his hair, very very tempted to continue the argument, but before he could, another figure spoke up.

“Leave it Aelith. He’s not worth the energy.”

Aelith blinked in surprise, as Tanalan leaned forwards. Tall, especially for an Azish, he spoke with a calm, collected air, when he even bothered. The stoneward had been the first among them to earn his blade, and according to his spren, Korth, he was close to the fourth ideal. Tanalan wasn’t his name, but he insisted on going by it. Plus, he wouldn’t tell any of them his actual name, for some strange reason. Aelith sighed, and forced himself to sit next to Matthan, though he did put Equation between them. The spren hummed, then spoke, this time specifically to Aelith.

“You do not like this windrunner”

Aelith glanced at him, then shot back at Equation mentally.

_It’s not that I don’t like him, it’s that he’s always trying to get a rise out of me._

“And you do not find that endearing? I read many human books about this type of courtship. Apparently it’s quite effective.”

_Trust me, Matthan is not courting me. He’s being an idiot, not charming._

Aelith left Equation to ponder that. The spren was clever, but the lightweaver had learned not to tell him too much at once, or they would start spinning rapidly and not talk for hours. Instead, despite the frigid air of the mountain clearing they were in, he went to go find the last member of their party.

He found Samaria skidding across the snow, arms flapping as she yelled obscenities. She managed to glance off a tree, and fall face first into the drift. Aelith chuckled, and went to help the edgedancer up. Tanith, her cultivationspren, formed out of the nearby plants, frowning.

“That was not very effective.”

Samaria pushed the hair out of her eyes and grinned.

“Yeah, but it was fun!”

Aelith cocked an eyebrow.

“Until you crashed into the snowbank.”

“Are you kidding? That was the best part!”

Of the five of them, Sam was the oddest. She had the most control of her powers, as in she had control over both surges. The Alethi woman had sworn the third ideal, but her spren Tanith seemed doubtful that she would swear the fourth. Not that it mattered. So long as she had access to both her surges, Aelith didn’t care. Samaria dusted herself off, and looked at him.

“So what’s up?”

He shrugged.

“Nothing’s up, I just wanted to check in on you.”

“Well, everything’s fine here, I’m continuing to master edgedancing.”

Tanith cut in at that point.

“She’s crashed into several trees and spent an entire broam healing herself.”

Sam waved her hand.

“Details details. So what’s the plan for tomorrow?”

Aelith shrugged.

“I think the plan is to continue to try and get out of Fused territory, but Tanalan seems to want to go to Azir and not south as planned.”

Sam shook her head.

“Damned Azish and their patriotism, it’ll jeopardize our whole mission”

Aelith was very tempted to point out that not three days ago, Sam had been insisting they return to Kholinar and try to free it, before he paused. Something was off. He glanced around, then looked up. It was dark, but maybe- there. Something shot across the sky. He looked at Sam. She had seen it too. They locked eyes.

Fused.

Aelith dashed back to the fire, Samaria sucking in stormlight and skidding ahead of him, amazingly graceful.

_She really has come a long way._

Aelith’s hand shot out to the side, and after ten heartbeats, Equation dropped into his hand. He rounded a tree, and found the camp in chaos. There were six or seven Heavenly Ones, circling in the air, Matthan dueling one. Other Fused fought, Narret holding his own against one, though he wasn’t a combat expert. Tanalan had summoned Korth as a shardhammer, and was laying into the three Fused trying to surround him. Samaria had picked up a different Fused, one of the orders Aelith didn’t recognise, and they were pursuing each other, the edgedancer letting her foe just catch up, and then turning around and attacking him with what looked like a shardaxe. The ground infront of Aelith boiled, and another Fused stepped out. Damnation. It was a Deepest One. He leveled Equation, but the Fused just smirked and sunk back into the earth. The lightweaver paused, trying to determine where the thing had gone when- WHAM.

Aelith flew across the camp, slamming into a tree and sliding down. He groaned, sucking in stormlight on instinct. His ribs renit, and Equation buzzed in his mind. The lightweaver stabbed the blade into the ground and forced himself up. Across the fire, the Fused, which Aelith now recognised as one of the Magnified Ones, grinned ferally, forming his carapace into a sword. Equation hummed with concern.

_He is most likely better at combat than us._

The lightweaver responded by raising his shardblade in challenge. The Magnified One nodded. Then, he bellowed and charged straight at Aelith. He spun, bringing Equation out in an attempt to graze the Fused, but he wasn’t fast enough. It spun, not bringing the carapace sword around, but rather swinging with his offhand. Aelith slapped it aside with Equation, then stabbed forwards. The Fused backstepped, then swung at him, only to have the upper half of the sword sheared off. Aelith sucked in more stormlight, then slammed his hand down on the ground. He wasn’t in the physical realm anymore. At least, not really. The two overlapped, and he found his hand resting on a bead. He looked at the bead

_Become stone._

Luckily, snow was malleable. It didn’t like being in its current form, on account that it might melt. Shadesmar faded, and Aelith found his Fused adversary sunken ankle deep into the stone, struggling. He didn’t have much stormlight, but he did have enough to imprison the Magnified One. Aelith smirked, and marched towards his opponent. He raised his shard, and nodded.

“Respect”

Suddenly Aelith was lying in the snow again, head ringing. Equation had flown out of his hand, and thus was back to being a spren. He rolled over, groaning, to find the Deepest One standing there. Damnation. He’d forgotten she was there. Aelith was about to force himself up, preparing to fight two Fused, when Samaria came out of nowhere. She grabbed the wrist of the Deepest One, and yanked her along, resulting in a cry from a harsh, quick rhythm. Aelith grinned, and stood up. The Magnificent One stood gaping, until the lightweaver charged him, Equation dropping into hand just as he collided with him. The shardblade cut through his chest, and Aelith felt a surge of satisfaction at watching the thing’s eyes burn.

Then he turned, surveying the battlefield. He had finished off the Magnified One, but there were at least five more, though Tanalan was charging them, shardhammer poised to smash into one of the unsuspecting. Narret fought with one arm, his first Fused dead, but a second keeping him pressed. Matthan was on his fourth Heavenly One, but he was clearly running out of stormlight. Samaria had given Aelith an edge by taking that Deepest One, unfortunately it now meant that it had her pinned into the stone as she thrashed, the other Fused she had been fighting nowhere to be found. Aelith sighed, sucking in stormlight and charging to help Samaria.  
It was then that a new figure dropped from the sky, shardplate flexing as she hit the ground. Aelith skidded to a stop, cursing softly as he stared at the figure wreathed in purple. She stood, eyes glowing.

Leanus of the Skybreakers had joined them.


End file.
